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Little White Fox did not make the least fuss but set the table himself. Now you might think that Little White Fox would eat only fresh eggs and fish, but if you think so you are mistaken. He likes berries and roots, and that is just what he had to eat that day, blueberries from the hillsides and nice juicy roots and bulbs from the tundra! My, they tasted good!
We had lunch with Gwen bannocks and fresh sweet milk and blueberries and after an hour of gay fun we came away. Lady Charlotte kissed her tenderly as she bade Gwen good-by. "You must let me come again and sit at your window," she said, smiling down upon the wan face. "Oh, I shall watch for you. How good that will be!" cried Gwen, delightedly. "How many come to see me! You make five."
The old bear, at the sound of his cry as he fell, had rushed so hastily to his aid that she barely escaped falling in after him. Checking herself just in time, by digging all her mighty claws into the roots of the blueberries, she crouched at the brink, thrust her head as far over as she could, and peered down with anxious cries.
Our university town was very much like the real country, in those days of which I am thinking. There were plenty of huckleberries and blueberries within half a mile of the house. Blackberries ripened in the fields, acorns and shagbarks dropped from the trees, squirrels ran among the branches, and not rarely the hen-hawk might be seen circling over the barnyard.
The gathering of them, from July to September, is an industry for many families who spend the whole day in the woods; strings of children down to the tiniest go swinging their tin pails, empty in the morning, full and heavy by evening. Others only gather the blueberries for their own use, either to make jam or the famous pies national to French Canada.
In an hour we sat down, with appetites sharpened by the pure mountain air, to an excellent supper of cold roast duck, broiled reindeer-tongues, black-bread and fresh butter, blueberries and cream, and wild-rose petals crushed with white sugar into a rich delicious jam.
"Do you dance?" she inquired presently. "No, save attendance on your pleasure," said he. "Will you teach me?" "Is there anything I can teach you?" She looked up at him playfully. "Wisdom," said he, quickly, "and how to preserve blueberries, and make biscuit like those you gave us when I came to tea. As to dancing, well I fear 'I am not shaped for sportive tricks."
Her nursery-maid was not present, possibly owing to the fact that John the footman was also absent. Suddenly Little came towards her. "Excuse me, but do you know what those berries are?" He was pointing to the low bush filled with dark clusters of shining suspiciously shining fruit. "Certainly; they are blueberries." "Pardon me; you are mistaken. They belong to quite another family."
"There's blueberries, and biscuit, and lots of nice things." "I'm hungry," said be; "but first, dear, let us enjoy love and kisses." Then by the lonely road he held her close to him, and each could feel the heart-beat of the other; and for quite a moment speech would have been most idle and inadequate. "Now the promise, Polly," said he soon.
In their wanderings one day in late summer the cubs, now so fat and well fed that their gait was a mere waddle, came upon a great patch of blueberries. Here was a treat indeed. They rose upon their hind legs and greedily stripped the branches until their faces were so stained with juice that Mother Bruin would scarcely have recognized them.
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